


Dear Hamid

by Joanjun



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Hamid tries his best to be good, Letter fic, Light Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Letters, M/M, Mutual Pining, Zolf is here for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25937257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joanjun/pseuds/Joanjun
Summary: A tale of long-distance friendships and love told through letters.Or, by embarrassing himself at a party, Hamid begins an unlikely relationship with the sailor Zolf Smith and discovers a new world of romance novels, danger and most importantly, deep and true friendships.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan/Zolf Smith
Comments: 21
Kudos: 31





	1. September

**Author's Note:**

> The concept for this fic sprang from reading the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, a terrific epistolary novel by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. The 19th century-ish setting of RQG seemed like a perfect fic for the epistolary genre, so I decided to go ahead and roll with it! :) Hopefully, you’ll enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

_Hamid to Azu_

Dear Azu,

First of all, have you received any news of Emeka? When we saw him off at the harbour in Brighton, I was actually quite worried he might not survive the trip back home. I shouldn’t have picked _The_ _Art of Spices_ for our last meal. Next time, I’ll just take you both to a plain British restaurant and call it a day. Of course, I didn’t speak my worries to you back then, because I know you, and so I knew you would have jumped aboard the ship even if it had already started leaving port and accompanied him all the way back to Kenya, leaving me by myself in Brighton. I apologise, I realise that was quite selfish of me, no? If you think so, you can tell me that it was. In any case, I truly hope he’s recovered and arrived home safely. 

Now onto the pièce de résistance of my letter. (I know, it’s too early for restaurant puns. But it’s too late, I’ve already written it down and I hate crossing sentences on a letter, it makes the whole thing look scrappy. Sorry! Now back on topic.). I went to a gala in London yesterday. You remember Dr. Einstein, my old university professor I always gush to you about? Well, he was going to give a speech there, about the future of magic within theoretical physics, and so I just had to attend it, even though I wouldn’t know anyone there. I managed to secure an invitation and dressed up for the occasion. Naturally, I wore my green silk tuxedo with the violet tie. It should have been a pleasant and relaxing evening with like-minded peers. But clearly, the gods decided it was not to be so, since they led me to meet Mr. Zolf, last name _???_

I’m sorry to say that I won’t treat you to the specifics of what led me to make his acquaintance in the bathrooms of The Old Hall Hotel, as just the thought of it is giving me a headache. To make a long story short, Liliana was there and I ended up with wine spilled all over my dress shirt, you can probably deduce the rest. I excused myself and walked as gracefully as I could to the men’s room, while painfully aware that everyone’s eyes were on me. My only hope at that moment was that Dr. Einstein had not arrived at the gala yet to witness it all. Anyhow, I was in the bathroom, having just prestidigitated my outfit and trying to get a hold of myself, when someone else walked in! I prayed to the gods that whoever they were, they would be kind enough to simply go about their business and leave me to my misery. 

Instead, the person who walked in, a blonde dwarf with the most intricate beard I’ve ever seen, walked in and simply froze when he noticed me. And so did I. We stood in awkward silence for a moment, before I forced myself to turn back toward the mirror and fiddled with the lapels of my suit, in an attempt to project the barest pretence of composure. I expected that to be that, but suddenly, he asked me with a pronounced Northern accent if I was alright. I think I stammered out that I was, thank you for asking. After that, the conversation simply continued to flow between us. He had this wonderfully tranquil voice, which made me almost forget how I’d just embarrassed myself in front of around two hundred people. 

After a few minutes, I was wondering how to keep our chat going, as I wasn’t exactly eager to go back into the hall just yet, when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a book lying idly by one of the sinks, whose author I immediately recognised. I thought I would spark a bout of laughter between us by making a witty, if perhaps cutting, remark about the author’s penchant for melodrama. This had the complete opposite effect, as I noticed his lips form a tight line and his cheeks flush in anger. Quickly, and yet too late, I guessed that the book belonged to this stranger, who had most likely come here to retrieve it. 

Before I could utter any apology, we were interrupted by the swing of the bathroom door, from which a man called out for ‘Zolf’ to get back to the party and give him a hand. The man whose name I now presumed to be Zolf spared me one last glance before snatching his book and shutting the door behind him. 

I can’t tell you how embarrassed and guilty I feel about the whole ordeal. This dwarf was kindly attempting to cheer me up by chatting up a stranger in the men’s room, and I thanked him by mocking his taste in literature. 

Azu, this might sound completely foolish, and I know that it is, for why should I care about a stranger’s opinion of me, but I’d like to find him and issue an apology. I thought perhaps either his name or his appearance might sound familiar to you? If you could also ask Grizzop, while keeping the unnecessary details to yourself (although I doubt that he would care), I would be extremely thankful.

I don’t have a lot for us to go on, but I did notice the following features, in addition to the ones I’ve already mentioned above. Our most promising lead, I think, is that he mentioned serving on a ship. It’s probably a safe bet to assume that he is a sailor of some sorts. Appearance-wise, he has green eyes and he wore a silver dolphin necklace at the party. I think I also noticed a ring with some kind of insignia on his finger. Lastly, I caught him limping slightly as he left the restroom, but it may just have been my imagination. 

I realise that asking you to comb London for one specific dwarf is unreasonable, and you’re already busy as it is with your paladin training. But if you could simply be on the lookout? As I’m writing these words, I’m horrified at how long this letter has gotten and I’m commanding myself to put down my quill within the next following seconds. 

As an apology for my rambling, lunch is on me next time! If you’re free, perhaps next Tuesday, at _La Grande Victoire_?

Love, 

Hamid

_Azu to Hamid_

My dearest Hamid,

Thank you for asking after Emeka; he is doing more than fine now. He’s already talking about taking another trip- to America this time! My parents are not pleased about this. I’m not sure I want to get involved.

But enough about Emeka- tell me more about this Zolf person! He seems like quite the intriguing character! What was a sailor doing at a science gala? What was the mysterious insignia on his ring? 

You’re right, we absolutely must find this Zolf, if not only for your conscience, then for my curiosity! I have already drafted a letter to Grizzop and will try my best to send it by tomorrow at the latest.

To tell you the truth, your letter has been like a godsend to me. These past days, my head has been buried in magical healing tomes, to the point where I have even dreamed of discussing their contents with their original authors! (Between you and me, Alanya Leitner, the author of _Potions, Cures & More Potions_, is not so displeasing to the eye.) So do not fret about bothering me, as I was extremely grateful for your lengthy letter and could not stop smiling as I read through it! Of course, the part about Liliana was the sole exception, and you must tell me about what happened over lunch next Tuesday. _La Grande Victoire_ sounds great! 

With all my love,

Azu

P.S. Your mysterious sailor made me forget to address one of your letter’s earlier questions. Perhaps it was a bit selfish of you not to share your concerns about Emeka, but part of me also knows you did not want to see me worried. I think we can all be a little selfish sometimes, none of us are perfect after all. What matters most is that we recognise this, as you did, Hamid. 

_Grizzop to Hamid_

Hamid,

Got Azu’s letter. I guess that taught you a lesson about making fun of other people’s taste. Ha. I’ve never seen or heard about a ‘Zolf’ from anyone, but I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. Not sure how useful that’ll be though, since I’m leaving the country for Damascus in two days. Might be gone for a few weeks or more, depending on how things turn out. 

Look after yourself,

Grizzop

_Hamid to Grizzop_

Dear Grizzop,

I definitely did learn my lesson and I know now not to question my peers’ poor taste in entertainment, no matter how difficult this may prove.

Your departure is so sudden! I wish I could have known beforehand, as we could have met up and I would have been able to wish you a safe journey. 

May I ask about your reasons for going to Damascus? 

Yours,

Hamid

_Grizzop to Hamid_

Hamid,

Objectives are classified. Temple matters. 

Sorry.

Grizzop

_Hamid to Grizzop_

Dear Grizzop,

I understand, no need to apologise. Please stay safe. 

Yours,

Hamid

_Bertie to Hamid_

My dear Hamid,

That Wilde fellow, what a funny chap! That article of his had my stomach in stitches for the better part of my day. 

What say you we catch up at our usual spot and you can tell me all about your lover’s spat? Drinks are on me! 

Yours,

Bertie

_Hamid to Azu_

Dear Azu, 

Oh dear gods, Azu. Forget about our search for Zolf, the man I wish to find is Oscar Wilde, so that I may strangle him! 

Have you read what that horrible man has published in _The Times_? Never have I seen myself painted in such a horrid light. He suggested that my “glittery exterior most probably did not match the interior” and made the whole incident seem as if I had been the one to provoke Liliana, like some jilted lover. How dare he? I was only trying to defend the person I consider to be my greatest mentor. 

Had any other person written the piece, it would have been dismissed as petty gossip, but of course, it had to be Wilde. Now, I’m afraid to go out and frequent my usual clubs, as I’m certain to receive searing looks from both its clientele and employees. I am not sure as to how I am to lift my spirits up. 

I demand for us to meet up soon at _Zelando’s Gelatos_ , where I will require a minimum of three hugs from you.

Love, 

Hamid


	2. October

_Zolf to Hamid_

Dear Mr. Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan,

Hello. 

You’re probably wondering why you received this letter and who it came from. My name is Zolf Smith and I’m actually the dwarf you spoke to in the bathroom at the Union Gala a few weeks ago. 

I’m not sure what to write, since I wasn’t expecting to ever talk to you again. But here we are. 

A good start would probably be to explain how I got your name and address. Yesterday, at around 9:00 am, the ship I serve on, _The Esperanza,_ sailed into port at Dover. Okay, maybe that was a bit much with the details. Let me try again.

Yesterday, I was helping with loading up the new cargo onto our ship. We’d just docked in Dover that same morning to stock up on some supplies. That’s when I noticed an old crewmate of mine from a few years ago, Clef, waving and calling for me from the other side of the harbour. I hurried to get the rest of my work done and crossed the dock to meet up with him. Turns out he’d been hoping to catch me because he was carrying a message for me from a Greezop Dricat Amsterdam. I probably butchered your friend’s name, sorry about that. 

Anyway, my old crewmate had just worked on a ship headed to Calais, where your friend was one of the passengers and where he was apparently asking the whole crew after me. Eventually, he got around to Clef, who then asked him what his problem was with me. According to Clef, they then had a short standoff, where Clef made it clear that crossing me would be the same as crossing him. Take that with a grain of salt, it’s Clef after all, not that that means anything to you. Long story short, your friend told him that you were trying to get in touch with me and gave Clef your name and everything.

So I guess that the question I’ve been trying to get to by telling you all this is: why? I mean, it’s a bit weird having someone I’ve never met inquire about me. I just want to know if it’s because I said something wrong back then, or maybe something fell out of my pockets and you picked it up? Whatever it is, I’d appreciate it if you could let me know. It’ll probably save me a headache or two. 

Zolf Smith

_Hamid to Azu_

Dear Azu,

You will not believe whose letter I received in the mail today. I wish I had the patience to wait and tell you everything in person- but I simply do not and cannot.

Just so you understand the frame of mind I was in before I got a hold of the letter in question, I shall quickly tell you why I was possibly having one the most miserable days of my life. My parents had rung me the previous night to discuss my plans for the future, or my lack thereof. Of course, their proposed solution was for me to finally enter the family business, as they have been expecting me to do so ever since I left Cambridge. I did not have the heart nor the strength to argue, so I let them spell out my next 10 years within the company, as I gradually felt my heart constrict into tinier and tinier shapes.

The next morning, I woke up in a panic to a loud knock at my door. Before I could prestidigitate away my bed hair and pyjamas, my landlord had barged her way into my foyer, the keys to my flat in one hand. With a lack of any sympathy, she broke the news that my rent would be going up starting from next month- London prices rising and all that- or so she said. In any case, this put me in an unfortunate position, as going to my parents now to request more help would be the same as offering my wrists to be chained up to the family business for the rest of my life. 

On top of it all, I felt pierced from all sides (and still do) by dirty looks every time I dared step a foot outside. I’m sure half of it is just self-consciousness, however, I am also one hundred percent certain that my downstairs neighbour Lysa unsuccessfully tried to cover up a chuckle when we crossed paths in the lobby last Monday.

Now that you’re fully caught up, Azu, you can imagine my surprise and glee when checking my daily mail today, I found an envelope with the name Zolf Smith topping the sender’s address! I couldn’t stop myself from darting up the stairs straight back into my flat; the neighbours must think me mad for sure.

Just as I was then, I know you must be dying to find out the contents of Zolf’s letter, so I will tell you without further delay. Grizzop, our amazing, beautiful friend, actually managed to find someone who had previously worked with Zolf! And he immediately let him know that I was looking to correspond with him. All of this, Zolf let me know himself.

I could tell from his letter that he was thoroughly confused by all of this. I suppose I hadn’t considered how unusual it would be for one to find out that a practical stranger and his ‘network’ had been looking for them. Gods, Azu, I hope he doesn’t think of me as some strange, desperate individual! But perhaps he does. After all, he wrote that he “wasn’t expecting to ever talk to me again.” Either he found me incredibly rude and did not wish to ever see me again, or he did not think that our paths would ever cross in the future. I’m leaning towards the first but hoping for the latter- what do you think?

If I wasn’t so afraid of making a fool of myself again, I would write and send off my reply today, but I think I should take some time to think my answer through first. In the meantime, I shall try to think of the best way to apologise for my behaviour at the party, as well as for causing him such unneeded anxiety.

Now that my ink has started to run over to a third page, you may think I’ve said everything there is to say, but there is in fact so much more we need to discuss. We also need to properly celebrate your commendation from Fairhands, and I’ve got just the right bottle of wine for it right here in my kitchen (please also do bring the orcish moonshine in case we need it later in the night). 

How does Sunday evening sound to you? 

Love, 

Hamid

P.S. Oh dear, I just had a thought. What if he’s read Wilde’s article on me...

_Hamid to Grizzop_

Dear Grizzop, 

Thank you! I truly mean it, thank you so much. I never imagined you finding Zolf this quickly. 

Wherever you are and whatever you are doing, I hope you’re safe and avoiding unnecessary danger. I hope to see you again soon. 

Yours gratefully, 

Hamid

P.S. I’m not sure when this letter will reach you. I’ve addressed it to the temple of Artemis, so that they may forward it to you, but let me know if there’s a more direct way of contacting you.

_Hamid to Zolf_

Dear Zolf,

I am so glad that Grizzop managed to find an old colleague of yours, and I am even gladder to have received your letter.

I understand that it might have been quite the shock to hear that someone you barely know was looking for you and I’m so sorry. Sometimes I get so swept up by an idea or a plan that I forget to fully consider its repercussions. It’s a bad habit of mine and one that I am working on fixing. Hopefully, you’ll forgive me for this, as well as for one other thing.

I feel terrible about how our conversation ended back at the gala. In all honesty, before we were interrupted by your friend, I was about to apologize for being such a judgemental ass. It’s true that Harrison Cambell’s novels have never really been suited to my taste. Having grown up reading Shakespeare and the likes, I never really saw the appeal in Cambell’s several hundred pages long tales of wild chases and fiery affairs. That said, it doesn’t give me the right, nor makes it any less unkind, to bash his literature. And I hope that my ill-mannered opinion hasn’t tarnished your enjoyment of his novels. 

I also hope that my letter has reassured you that unlike me, you did not do or say anything wrong. In reality, it was quite the opposite. I’m pretty sure that you witnessed that incident in the hall, and as such, you know that I was not having the greatest time at the gala. Perhaps this is too personal a thing to reveal to someone I’ve only briefly met once, but I was very nearly in tears before your arrival in the men’s room. Yet our chat managed to pull me out of this hole in a matter of minutes. 

I was particularly cheered by our agreeing that Newton, judging from his clear dislike of anyone present there, appeared to have been blackmailed into coming and giving a speech. Never have I seen a man scamper off a stage this quickly (and that includes Lord Byron’s recent live poetry reading, where he fell sick mid-performance and ran to vomit behind the curtain. Although, if you ask me, ‘sick’ isn’t exactly the right term for it, if you know what I mean!).

I can see that I’ve started veering off topic, which might be a sign that it is time for me to end this letter. I had a lovely time reading yours, so thank you again for sending it. 

Yours sincerely,

Hamid

P.S. Just Hamid is fine. I know that my full name can be a mouthful, or should I say in this case, a quillful?

P.P.S. Oh, and what did you mean in your letter by “it’s Clef after all”? What is Clef normally like? Please give me the full story, I’m currently confining myself to my flat and so I’m in dire need of entertainment. 

_Azu to Hamid_

Dearest Hamid,

Have you gotten any news from Grizzop? I sent him a message a while ago and I still haven’t heard back from him. I know he’s on a mission for the Artemis lot, and obviously he’s got a lot on his hands, but it’s already been three weeks without any word from him. I know he’d hate me if he knew, but I can’t help but feel a little bit worried about him. 

On a lighter note, I’ve been feeling so much better since I started my shifts at the clinic. Of course, building up my knowledge through lessons and books is important, but it feels so good to finally put into practice what I’ve learned. 

My patients have all been lovely so far. I had a little halfling girl tell me that when she’s all grown up, she wants big muscles just like me! I almost melted into a puddle. I’ve always known since my vision that becoming a paladin of Aphrodite was the right path for me, but having it reaffirmed everyday is such an amazing feeling.

Are things also looking up on your side? Or do you still feel like it’s hard to walk around London and visit your usual spots? If so, I’ve got some news that should cheer you up! I heard that Wilde has embarked on a trip to Japan to research his new play, so your reputation should be safe for a while!

Love,

Azu 

_Zolf to Hamid_

Dear Hamid,

I’m just using ‘Hamid’, not because it’s easier, but just because calling you “Mr. Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan” every time would be a bit weird. And I don’t think your name is a quillful, it’s a nice name. It’s more original than “Zolf Smith”, at least.

Thanks for clearing everything up. It’s definitely not what I’d expected, but at least now I can stop racking my brain over it. And I don’t know how you would have found me otherwise, so really, no need to agonise over it. 

What I can’t forgive though is not liking Harrison Cambell. Have you tried his books or are you just going off what others have told you? Because I was a bit dubious at first too, until I actually gave them a try. I read my first Cambell novel back when most people had no idea who he was and he was still figuring out his style. But even then, you could see there was something special about his books.

I mean, in his first one, _When Passions Collide,_ Jennifer starts off as the typical clueless protagonists, all wide-eyed innocence and constantly making the worst life decisions you could imagine. But as the story progresses, you can tell that she’s learning from every past mistake. When she meets Jonathan, the perfect man in her eyes, the reader expects her to fall into his arms, end of his story. But no. Before anyone else, she realises how different their life aspirations are and how they both need to accept this before committing to each other. And so then- wait no, I need to stop here before I spoil the entire thing. You might change your mind one day.

It’s not Shakespeare, I know, but if every book was by Shakespeare, how boring would the world be? When I’m out at sea and there are nights when I can’t sleep, Cambell’s stories have been there for me, not Shakespeare’s. I took _Questions of the Heart_ to the Union Gala with me in case I needed a break from all the sucking up and posturing. I guess that if I hadn’t, we probably wouldn’t have met, so it’s a good thing I did. 

Look, I know maybe I shouldn’t be asking, but what happened at the gala? One second I was being talked at to death by a Dr. of Something, and the next everyone was gasping and staring at you. Obviously, I can put two and two together and guess that the wine on your clothes didn’t fall from the ceiling, but clearly that’s not the whole story- which you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I get that we all have things we’d rather keep private.

I think there was something else I wanted to say, but it slipped out of my mind. 

Yours,

Zolf

P.S. Oh right, Clef. He’s just the kind of guy that’ll talk the talk, but not really own up to it when confronted. Sorry to disappoint but there’s actually not much else to the story, but hopefully the rest of my letter has been enough of a distraction. Do people in London really give that much of a damn about what happened more than a month ago?

_Saira to Hamid_

Dear Hamid, 

I tried to call you earlier today but no one picked up. I guess you must have been out and about trying whichever new five star restaurant has just opened. By the by, how’s the weather in London? Lately, the weather in Cairo has just been terrible and we’re all just ready for the winds to calm down again. I think everyone is getting tired of sweeping sand from every corner of the house back outdoors every morning. 

Apart from the weather, things have been good here. As always, the twins are a menace. They broke two vases within the last week, and both times, they tried to pin it each other. No one’s said it out loud, but we’re all pretty hopeful that Saleh is genuinely getting better. I mean, you know how he is, often one leap forward is two steps back with him, but it seems like the help he’s receiving this time is actually having a lasting impact. I heard him in the office with Dad the other night, and it seemed like for the first time in forever they were actually talking to each other, instead of Dad talking at him. And since Saleh’s doing better, so are Mom and Dad. I guess the only drawback to all of this is now they’ve decided to turn back to you.

You know, I think they won’t stop asking you to come home and work with Dad unless you present them with a different plan. Otherwise they’ll keep worrying that you’re wasting your life in London, and to be honest, I sort of understand where they’re coming from. I’m not exactly worried about you, I know putting a break on getting a degree or work isn’t a bad thing in itself, sometimes you need a minute to figure out what you want to do next. It’s only that I want you to be happy, Hamid, and the sooner find exactly what it is that does that for you, the better for all of us. I’m not trying to be pushy, I just, I’m telling you what I think. 

And I miss you, Hamid. We all do. 

Call me when you get this letter,

Saira 

_Hamid to Azu_

Dear Azu, 

I’m sorry, I haven’t heard anything from Grizzop either. Knowing him, it hopefully just means he’s too busy shooting flaming arrows at criminals to sit down at a desk and write us back. Like you wrote, it’s been a few weeks already, so hopefully, he should get back to us soon. 

I’m so happy that your time at the clinic is going more than well! I know you were a bit apprehensive in the beginning, but clearly, you had nothing to be worried about. You’re an amazing healer and person in general, so of course your patients were going to love you. And what you said about having your choices revalidated everyday sounds just so wonderful, I can’t help wishing I had that too. Oh, I know how that must sound, but please don’t worry about me (my family is already doing enough of it). I’m doing good. 

I finally feel comfortable enough to go outside again, and more importantly, I received another letter from Zolf! I was nervous that he’d see my last letter as a natural end to our correspondence, even though I made sure to add a question at the end to tempt him further into replying. 

Azu, he said he thought I had a nice name! He also said that he couldn’t forgive my opinion concerning Cambell, but I’m pretty sure he was joking about that (unless I read everything completely wrong???). I’ll bring his letter with me next time we meet so that you may read it and tell me what you think. I’m feeling strangely excited when I think about what I’m going to write in my reply. Perhaps it’s because I found his passion for cheap romance novels oddly charming? You’ll see what I mean when you see his letter. 

Are you free next Wednesday for lunch? You pick the place this time!

Love, 

Hamid

_Hamid to Zolf_

Dear Zolf, 

Reading your letter while having fresh croissants for breakfast was the perfect start to my day. What do you usually eat for breakfast? I’m more of a pancakes and fresh pastries person, but I’m also not against having eggs and toast on the side. I suppose that on a boat options are probably more limited, but correct me if I’m wrong. 

Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you about your job. I’ve come to understand that you’re a sailor, but do you hold any particular position within the ship? I have to admit that I don’t know the first thing about ships or their crews. I’ve been sailing a few times with friends, but all that’s taught me is how to hold on tightly to the railing when the wind picks up. I’m afraid the ocean and I are not on the best of terms.

Oh, I should have written this first, but thank you for accepting my apologies. I would have hated to have destroyed our shot at friendship before it even had a chance to begin. Besides, it’s true that most of my opinions about Cambell I’ve borrowed from friends, without actually giving him a try for myself. So I’ve decided, this afternoon I’ll visit my favourite bookshop and purchase a copy of _When Passions Collide_. I will judge for myself whether Jennifer does really grow from her mistakes and if Jonathan truly is the right man for her. I have to say, your letter has raised my expectations for the novel exponentially! 

Now to the part I’ve been dreading: why I felt anxious about going outside of my apartment. Had the only incident been what happened at the party, I think I would have gotten away with it. Most of the attendees were scientists and wizards so engrossed in their own studies that I don’t think they would have cared enough to share what had happened- which is that my ex-girlfriend, and old classmate, deliberately spilled her glass of wine down my shirt. 

Her name is Liliana and I had no idea that she was going to be there, although maybe I should have expected it, as her current supervisor was giving a speech there. When I spotted her talking among a group of other guests, I told myself to ignore her and go get a drink for myself. Before I had the chance to turn away though, she caught my eyes and took it as an invitation to approach me. Liliana had only broken up with me a few months ago, so I still felt quite raw about everything. I wanted to run the opposite way but I also refused to seem like a coward in front of her, so I waited. 

Almost immediately, we started arguing. She was there to support her supervisor, Dr. Newton, while I’d come for my old university professor, Dr. Einstein, who was another one of the guest speakers. She threw veiled insults at Dr. Einstein and said she wasn’t sure why he’d been chosen as one of the speakers. Of course, I came to his defence, as he's always been one of my greatest mentors, even when I didn’t give him a reason to be. Do you know he’s currently the world’s best teleporter? And unlike Newton, he hasn’t completely lost his touch with the rest of humanity. This is more or less what I retorted to Liliana and what led her to splash her wine on me. I don’t know how we managed to last two years together. When I think about it, it feels completely ludicrous. 

I know it was immature to rise to her bait- I can admit that. But given the chance to do it over, I would do the same thing again; it was the right thing to do. I don’t care what Oscar Wilde says. I know I’m flawed, but in that moment, I wasn’t trying to be “petty” or “pig-headed”, I was defending a friend. 

I can’t stop you from reading his article, which caused my involuntary confinement, but I at least want you to know that that’s not me. 

I sincerely hope that my revelations haven’t made you hesitant to pursue a friendship with me. 

Yours truly, 

Hamid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this second chapter!!! 
> 
> Kudos/comments are more than welcome :)


	3. November

_Grizzop to Hamid_

Hamid, 

I’m back! Just reached London yesterday. Got home to like fifteen letters from Azu. I thought I’d warned you two that I might be gone for a while. 

So, did Zolf end up reaching out to you? That’s why you sent me that thank you letter, right? I get the feeling there’s a lot I need to catch up on. 

Are you and Azu free this Sunday? Let’s meet in Hyde Park at 10:00 am by the weird dolphin sculpture and see where we go from there?

See you soon, 

Grizzop

_Hamid to Azu_

Dear Azu, 

Did you also feel like Grizzop wasn’t telling us everything today? He says he’s fine but he’s obviously been through more than he’s letting on. He brushed off the scar on his ear like it was nothing, but there’s more than a significant chunk of skin completely gone! 

If I press him for details, I get the sense he’ll just shut me down. But maybe, you stand a better chance of finding out more, from paladin to paladin? 

Love, 

Hamid

_Hamid to Zolf_

Dear Zolf, 

Have you received my last letter, which I sent around a fortnight ago? If you did, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to rush you. I just think that if you had, you’d have most likely replied by now, especially since I mentioned my intent to buy _When Passions Collide_.

I’ve had so much time on my hands recently that I’m actually almost finished with it now. To me, it feels like the kind of story that’s best read at sunset, when one has had a long day and wants to end it on a relaxing note. I was correct; it isn’t Shakespeare, but I suppose it never pretends be. And it is a lot more self-explanatory than _Hamlet_ , something I can appreciate from time to time. I’m looking forward to talking to you more about it in person, if we get to see each other again one day.

I hope everything is going well on your side.

Yours, 

Hamid

_Zolf to Hamid_

Dear Hamid, 

Sorry for the delay- our ship just made port this afternoon, so I got to your two letters at the same time. Our last expedition ran into a few more problems than we’d planned for, so it lasted a bit longer than we’d expected. 

Case in point, two days into the voyage, we discovered a stowaway on the ship. For about an entire day, the crew argued whether we should turn back and drop her off, before setting sail again. In the end, we decided not to. We’re already operating on a limited amount of resources, and any delay was just going to add to the cost. Turns out, we made the right decision, as she made herself more than useful. Part of me thinks she was born to be a sailor, seeing the way she handles herself on a ship. She’s refused to tell us her last name, but her first name’s Sasha. I guess she’s one of us now. I’ve already discussed her pay and all the little details with her. I’m glad I managed to convince the captain to take her on; I don’t think she had anywhere else to go. 

That reminds me that I still haven’t answered your question about what my job is. Officially, I’m the ship’s healer. Non-officially, I help out whenever I can, whether that’s preparing meals for everyone when the cook is off, or figuring out what to do with unexpected passengers. Overall, it’s a pretty good job; it keeps me busy. What do you do? You mentioned having a lot of free time, and you can afford not to leave home for a bit, so I’m guessing you’re not a doctor or a teacher.

Ah, and Wilde. He can be a real prick sometimes. Almost drowned him in a bucket a couple of times back in the early days. Though I reckon there are a lot of worse bosses to have out there. If you want my advice, just ignore him. The stronger your reaction, the more he’ll press. And you don’t have to worry, I’m not going to read his article; I’m not interested in his version of events. It sounds like you think you did the right thing and since I don’t know Liliana, Newton or Einstein, there’s not much I can say about that. 

I can say a lot more though about you starting _When Passions Collide_. I’m surprised, and honestly pretty thrilled, that my previous letter convinced you to get a copy. Usually, my book recommendations tend to fall on deaf ears since most people I know don’t have a lot of spare time to crack open a book. I’m glad that with you it was different. 

For some reason, I understood exactly what you meant when you described it as a “sunset” type of book. It’s the perfect story to plunge into when I’m finished with my duties and finally get a chance to sit back. I wouldn’t be against us meeting again for you to give me an in-depth review, but I can’t make any promises for the near future. I have to go where my work takes me, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to come up to London again. 

Since our next get-together might not happen until next year, I’m giving you homework, which you can feel free to ignore. I’m enclosing with my letter my copy of _With the Passion of the Sun_ , my favourite one by Cambell. It’s a spin-off of _When Passions Collide_ that focuses on Jonathan’s younger brother, Christian, and his on-and-off relationship with Esteban, the man he blames for his father’s untimely death. I won’t say any more since you’ll enjoy it more if you go into it blind. But obviously, you don’t have to read it if you don’t want to. 

Sasha’s waiting for me at the _Soggy Admiral_ for some drinks, so I’m going to have to leave it there. 

Even if I can’t reply as often as I want to, keep sending me letters (if you still have the time for it). They’re a nice surprise to arrive to every time I make it back to land. 

Your friend,

Zolf 

P.S. I’m a coffee and toast sort of dwarf. 

_Saira to Hamid_

Dear Hamid, 

Even though we just had you on the phone, I still don’t quite feel calm. Of all the places you could have been in London, you had to be in the theatre where a bomb went off! I know it’s not your fault but I’m just feeling frustrated. We were all already concerned enough as it is without having to think of the possibility of life-threatening explosions happening in your vicinity. Promise me you’ll try to avoid crowded public spaces until the police find the people responsible for it.

I need to go; I can hear Mom and Dad talking about buying tickets to London. I’ll do my best to convince them not to since I know it’ll only serve to rattle you more. I would say you owe me, but considering the circumstances, I’ll give you this one for free. 

With love from us all and please stay safe, 

Saira

_Grizzop to Hamid_

Hamid, 

Are you alright? Azu just called and told me what happened. What can you remember from before the explosion? And after it? 

Stay safe, 

Grizzop

_Hamid to Grizzop_

Dear Grizzop, 

Thanks to Azu, I’m feeling alright again. She watched over me until close to midnight, at which point I managed to convince her to go home and get some rest. 

I’m sorry but I don’t know if I can recall anything useful about last night, but I’ll tell you what I remember anyway, and perhaps you can grasp something from it. The play I intended to see at the Lyceum Theatre was _King Lear,_ starring Henry Irving _._ Bertie had offered me the ticket he’d been gifted by one of his Cambridge ‘acquaintances’ as he’s never really been one for theatre. As it often is, my calendar was free for the night and so I readily accepted. Oh gods, if Bertie had been in my place, would he have made it out okay? 

Sorry- I still haven’t started describing what actually happened. Before I blacked out, the curtains were about to close and I was just having a hushed conversation with my next-seat neighbour, Lord Byron, about our favourite Shakespeare passages. He got- no, he was less lucky than me. I caught a glimpse of him when I was being dragged outside and all I saw was a lot of blood, some dry, some still flowing. 

As I said, I blacked out completely and when I came to, I wasn’t in the right mindset to fully take in my surroundings. I remember screaming and fire, but again, nothing that might be relevant to identifying the perpetrators. I wish I could tell you more, but right now, this is all I have. 

I understand that you’re going to be busier now more than ever, but come see me in my flat if you have the chance to. I’ll be there.

Yours, 

Hamid

_Hamid to Zolf_

Dear Zolf, 

The first thing I need to do is apologise for this letter, since it’s likely to be nonsensical and irrelevant to our previous topics of conversation. But I’m feeling the need to write to you, despite not being in the right headspace for it. 

I don’t know if you already saw in the papers, but there was an explosion yesterday in London, in the Lyceum theatre. And by pure coincidence, I was there. And I got hurt. And some people died. They’re saying six in the papers. Hopefully, that number won’t increase. 

I feel... shaken I suppose? It’s a bit of an understatement, but writing ‘shell-shocked’ seems overdramatic. So I’m going for ‘shaken’. I’ve cried but it hasn’t helped much.

I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m trying to achieve by writing you all this. I probably shouldn’t send this letter. I just hate how powerless and useless I felt after I was rescued from the debris. I wanted to rush back in there and provide whatever help I could, but my body wouldn’t let me. 

I’m not making any sense; I should get back to bed. But first I’ll go down and ask my landlord if she’ll post this letter for me. Her pity might vanquish her dislike for me; one can only hope.

Your sincere friend,

Hamid

_Hamid to Zolf_

Dear Zolf, 

Please disregard anything I wrote in my previous letter. If you haven’t read it yet and are seeing this one first, please discard it into the sea. It was written in a haze of tiredness and drunkenness and though I can’t remember the specifics of what I wrote, I know it must have sounded extremely pathetic. 

If you didn’t read it, then great! The gist of it was that I was quite unfortunately caught in an explosion of unknown causes while I was down at the theatre. I got a few scrapes but mostly, I’m fine. 

Moving on- did you write that Oscar Wilde is your boss?! My quill is inkless! How did you end up working for him? I didn’t know he even employed people, apart from the ones he pays to laugh at his jokes. I thought he was just a ‘journalist’ and ‘playwright’ (notice the quotation marks). My brain hurts just at the thought of having him as my superior. 

Right now, I just can’t imagine having someone tell me what to do in general. Not that I can’t follow orders, I can... if I agree they’re the right course of action. Both fortunately and unfortunately, I’m not employed right now, so as it stands, I’m my own boss (which doesn’t bode well for me). So for the moment, the answer to your question “what do you do?” is: honestly, not much.

I was enrolled at Cambridge, but I dropped out in my third year. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make myself attend the lectures and listen patiently for hours on end. Instead, I let my friends convince me to attend parties that lasted until noon the next day. Eventually, it began to reflect on my grades and I decided to drop out before the university politely asked me to ‘leave’. My parents haven’t forgiven me for it yet. They think I flushed a promising banking career right down the drain, which admittedly, I did. 

But enough about me- life on your ship seems much more exciting! Long expeditions, stowaways that refuse to disclose their last name, etc... you could be part of an adventure novel! No wonder you’re too busy to make it back up to London again. You used the word ‘expedition’, so I’m guessing that you do more than simply transporting cargo and people? I’d love to hear more about your expeditions and their purpose, if you’ll allow me. 

Since you asked, I promise to keep sending you letters until you tire of them. 

Yours truly,

Hamid

P.S. Thank you for sharing your copy of _With the Passion of the Sun_ with me. I haven’t had a chance to begin it yet, but I’m hoping to get to it soon.

_Hamid to Azu_

Dear Azu,

Thank you for coming over this afternoon and bringing all those amazing cakes with you! You always know the perfect way to cheer me up. Apart from thanking you, I’m writing to tell you that a bit after you left, I discovered the most amazing thing! 

After I’d tidied up the flat a bit, I sunk into my sofa and decided to start the book that Zolf sent me. From the third page onwards, I found out that Zolf is the kind of person to write notes in the margin of his books. Normally, that would annoy me immensely. I remember sometimes getting old Cambridge textbooks full of scribbles everywhere, making the whole thing a pain to read. In comparison, Zolf’s notes are clean and discreet, and one could completely forego paying attention to them if they wanted to. But of course, I haven’t.

I would tell you the sort of things he’s written, but somehow it would feel like a betrayal of his trust. It already seems somewhat invasive of me to read his private thoughts laid out on paper. To describe them vaguely, they’re full of little observations and comments on the present situations. Sometimes, he even directs them towards the characters! To tell them how terrible their plan is, to use their damn eyes for once, or even to congratulate them sometimes. I feel as if Zolf is right beside me, reading the same words and occasionally tapping on my shoulder to make some witty or heartfelt comment. 

Azu, how can I miss someone I’ve only met once? 

Love,

Hamid

_Bertie to Hamid_

My dear boy, 

It’s been a while! I sure do hope you’ve recovered from that nasty incident and are back on your own two feet, ready to explore the streets of London once more, with your dear friend Bertie at your side! 

I’ve come into some money recently through fortunate happenings and it seems only right to share my recent gains with you. I hear that that new pub by Regent’s Park serves quite the mean gin! 

Let’s say Friday at 10 o’clock? 

Yours, 

Bertie

_Hamid to Bertie_

Dear Bertie, 

Thank you for your well wishes and invitation, but I’m afraid I’ve promised Saira to avoid crowded places for the time being. 

I hope you understand, 

Hamid

_Zolf to Hamid_

Dear Hamid, 

I read both of your letters- sorry. Are you sure you’re okay? I know from personal experience that you can leave a place mostly unscraped but still hurt. 

I found out what I could from the newspapers, but it seems like the police themselves don’t have a clue about what happened, even if they’re trying to pretend that they do. I saw the pictures of what’s left of the place- I can’t believe you were in there. But I’m glad you made it out. 

Listen, I know it’s a lot to ask, but don’t blame yourself for what you did or didn’t do. It won’t fix anything. Some mistakes I made years ago, and I still feel guilty about them, but me feeling bad didn’t change the past. You need to accept that what happened, happened. That’s the only way you’ll be able to move on. 

Since you’re curious, I’d be happy to tell you stories from my trips and how Wilde kept me out of prison, but this letter doesn’t seem like the right place for it. Instead, do you want to meet up in person? I’ve talked my captain into letting me take an early Christmas week-end in the second week of December, during which I’m planning to head to London. Will you be there? 

Yours ever, 

Zolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! I truly appreciate it! 
> 
> Let me know what you thought by leaving a kudos/comment! :)


	4. December

_Hamid to Zolf_

Dear Zolf,

I would be delighted to see you! How long are you planning on staying? I am planning on going home to Egypt for a week or so, but most likely towards the end of December. By this, I mean that I’ll be free to spend time with you and show you around London, however long you do come.

Is there anything special that you’d like to see or do while you’re in the city? If so, I’m happy to follow along and keep you company while you run your errands! If it’s the opposite, then you may leave the planning and the reservations to me- I will take care of everything. Just let me know what’d you prefer.

I assure you that I am indeed alright and don’t even have any scars to show for it, apart from some strange yellowish mark below my shoulder. I read what you said about dwelling on mistakes and I agree with you. My way of coping amounts to telling myself that I will do better next time. From your letters, it seems that yours consists in staying busy, but perhaps I’m wrong. Whatever the mistakes you made and are carrying with you, I hope they do not lie too heavily on your shoulders. 

I’ll be eagerly waiting for your response. 

Yours truly,

Hamid 

_Hamid to Grizzop_

Dear Grizzop, 

How are you doing? Today, I went and took a short walk in the park down the street and saw two little girls practice shooting some poor ducks with what looked like an homemade wooden bow and arrows (which were actually just sticks). With that sort of equipment, a miracle would have had to happen for them to hit any of the ducks, but still, I was concerned for them. I gently chided them and hastily carved a target on a nearby oak to encourage them to take their shots at a non-breathing creature. One of the little girls reminded me of you; she looked ready to use me as a target instead by the time I was done chastising them. It reminded me that I should write to you. 

On a different topic, I wasn’t aware that you’d made new friends in London. Azu told me she caught sight of you strolling with Oscar Wilde near Leicester Square. You can befriend anyone you’d like of course, but I’m just a bit surprised at your choice of companionship. If I’m honest, I have trouble imagining your two personalities do anything but clash. 

Let’s meet up soon,

Hamid

_Zolf to Hamid_

Dear Hamid, 

Anything you have in mind for us to do is fine with me. I’m sure you know London better than I do. 

Due to work and other commitments, I can only stay for one night. But, I’ll be arriving in the morning and leaving at sunset the following day, so that should give us almost two whole days to work with. My train is supposed to reach St. Pancras station at 10:15 am on the 17th. Should I meet you there or at your apartment? 

Yours, 

Zolf 

P.S. Is it okay if I bring Sasha with me? We can stay at a hotel if it makes things easier. 

_Hamid to Zolf_

Dear Zolf, 

Of course, Sasha is more than welcome to come and you can both stay at my place; I have a guest room and a sofa waiting for you two. It’s the only way we treat guests in my family. I will come pick you both up at the station.

In case you’ve forgotten what I look like, I’ll be wearing a dark green scarf. Afterwards, we can go for lunch. I’ve made a reservation at _La Casa del Sol,_ a lovely Spanish restaurant that I hope you and Sasha will enjoy. As for the rest of the day and the next, you’ll have to wait and find out! 

Yours dearly,

Hamid

_Azu to Hamid_

Dearest Hamid, 

Great news! I talked to Inaho and they’re okay with switching shifts, which means I’m going to get to meet Zolf! And Sasha! I absolutely cannot wait. 

You can tell me if you need help with organising their stay, even if it’s just making their beds. You seemed to have it all under control when I saw you today, but don’t hesitate to ask if that changes! You know I’m always here for you. 

Love, 

Azu

_Hamid to Zolf_

Dear Zolf, 

By the time you see this letter, you should have made it back safely to Dover. I hope you managed to close your eyes for an hour or two on the train and that your journey back went smoothly. 

I can’t recall the last time I ever had this much fun. Sasha was delightful! I never thought I would meet my match when it comes to inhaling monumental amounts of food, but it seems I’ve been proven wrong. She didn’t always seem at ease in our company in the beginning, but I could tell that your presence has a calming effect on her. And by Sunday afternoon, she was already acting less reserved around Azu and me. 

I hope you enjoyed the week-end as much as I did and are already thinking about coming back. 

Yours ever, 

Hamid

_Hamid to Azu_

Dear Azu, 

The week-end flew by! Much too quickly if you ask me. I wished there had been a way to have them stay longer but I know that Zolf’s work does not like to wait. Although he was quite enigmatic about the matter, it’s clear that the expeditions he and his crew undertake are of great importance. 

I can’t help but find it strange that Oscar Wilde, ever the socialite, would have any interest in funding expeditions to the Arctic Ocean. It smells quite fishy to me. Not to mention his spontaneous trip to Japan, followed by you spotting him rubbing elbows with Grizzop, a paladin of Artemis of all people. Look at me use up so much ink on the man, you’re going to think I’m obsessed- which I’m not. I just know there’s something else going on behind his charming smiles and lavish lifestyle. 

Now that I think about it, Wilde seems the opposite to Zolf. He seemed content, no matter where I took him or what we did. You should have seen how his eyes lit up when we walked into the romance section of Hatchards. I thought he might never leave again!

Thank you, by the way. Don’t think I didn’t notice you giving me and Zolf some time to ourselves. It’s a shame we had to miss delicious ice cream, as well as seeing Sasha wolf down two scoops in one bite, but I wouldn’t trade Zolf’s and my stroll down the Thames for anything. Did I think the frigid winds would give me hypothermia? Yes, and judging by my recent sneezing, they did. But was it worth it? Undoubtedly, yes.

When we saw them off at the train platform, it felt like waving goodbye to friends we were meant to have met years ago. And being held by Zolf, however briefly, made me realize how much I’d missed living freely, unplagued by worries about my future or even my safety. 

I think- no, I _know_ that I feel differently about Zolf. I can’t explain it in writing, but hopefully you’ll bear with me as I try to next time we go for lunch or coffee. 

Thank you again for coming with us, this week-end would never have been this successful without you, Azu. 

With all my love, 

Hamid 

_Zolf to Hamid_

Dear Hamid,

Thanks for your letter. Our trip back to Dover went off without a hitch. Didn’t manage to catch any sleep in the train, but there was time for that later.

Even though she didn’t say it, I’m pretty sure Sasha found you and Azu “delightful” too. During the ride back, she couldn’t stop talking about all the things she’d noticed in London, all the while admiring her brand new leather jacket. I’m guessing Other London must be pretty different. 

The other times I’ve been to London, I never really found myself enjoying it. You could say I’m not really a city-person. Too much noise, too many people. Somehow, this time was different. I write ‘somehow’, but I’ve got a feeling it had to do with being with the right people. I wouldn’t have minded staying an extra day or two, but duty calls and all that. 

We’re setting sail again the day after tomorrow for I don’t know how long, so it looks like I might be spending Christmas at sea this year. I’ll be taking your early Christmas present with me. Might have to read it at night when the rest of the crew is sleeping below deck, since _The Heart Beats Faster_ is probably his most risqué- or shall we say, ‘passionate’ of the bunch, not that there’s anything wrong with it. I still don’t know how you managed to find a signed copy; I’ve been around my fair share of cities and bookshops, but I’ve never stumbled onto one before. Should I be thanking your upper London connections? No, I’m just messing with you.

I’m really thankful, Hamid. And not just for the book. I’m grateful that Barnes said he’d fire me if I didn’t help him beg for funds at a posh London party, that your ex threw her wine at you, and I’m even grateful that you called Cambell’s books “poorly written, melodramatic rubbish”, because otherwise, well we wouldn’t be talking, would we? 

I’ll stop my letter here before it gets sappier. 

Ever your friend,

Zolf

P.S. Sasha said she also had some “private stuff to tell you”, so I’m enclosing her note alongside my letter. 

_Sasha to Hamid_

Hey Hamid,

Thanks for being cool with me coming up with Zolf and for showing us around upper London and everything. It was pretty fun. I liked your flat and the ice cream. Yeah... the ice cream was great. And I guess you’re alright too. I get why Zolf spends so much time writing to you now.

Maybe see you again one day,

Sasha

_Hamid to Sasha_

Dear Sasha,

Hopefully this letter finds you before you leave on your next seafaring adventure.

I was happy to find your letter tucked in with Zolf’s, and even happier to hear that you enjoyed your stay in London. It was a true pleasure to have gotten to meet you. Next time you come up, I’ll get you to meet my friend Grizzop; I have a feeling the two of you might click.

Yours,

Hamid

P.S. Please wish Zolf safe travels from me.

_Hamid to Azu_

Dear Azu,

I hope this letter hasn’t gotten caught in a sandstorm and successfully reached you in one piece. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t been properly home in years, but I don’t remember the winds being this dreadful before. 

I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year’s. I hope being reunited with your family after so long has cured you of all your homesickness. Please give all of my love to them and tell them my family would love to receive them in Cairo one day. 

Love,

Hamid

_Grizzop to Hamid_

Dear Grizzop,

I’m not sure where I should address this letter; who knows if you’re in London or off to the other side of the world? What I mean is that it’s been too long since we last saw each other.

Whatever you are up to now, I’d like to wish you a Merry Christmas, as well as a happy new year. One of my New Year’s resolutions shall be to attempt to stay in closer contact with you, as far as it’s doable on your side.

Yours dearly,

Hamid

_Hamid to Sasha_

Dear Sasha, 

Have a wonderful Christmas and New Year. May the next year treat you well and allow us to cross paths again!

Yours,

Hamid

_Hamid to Zolf_

Dear Zolf, 

I’m writing this letter from my childhood bedroom. It feels strange to be home again after so long. Everything looks and seems familiar, but I can’t help but feel as if things have changed. Or perhaps it’s me that’s changed? 

Although everyone has been lovely at home, there are nonetheless some ‘tense’ moments that have me wishing I was staring out at the sea with you. I have become a grandmaster of diversion, bringing up a new subject discussion any time our family meals veer anywhere near something career or future-related. They mean well, but it can get tiring.

The weather here is dry and windy, it’s a nice change from the eternal wetness of London. What is it like for you? I imagine it can’t be that toasty all that way up north. I hope you’re managing to stay warm and in good spirits.

This letter was supposed to simply wish you a Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year’s, but my quill does as it pleases.

Thinking of you,

Hamid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! Zolf and Hamid finally got to meet each other in person! And Azu and Sasha! Azu's friendship with Hamid and Sasha in the podcast is just the best thing ever, so I was so happy to make them meet and like each other in this fic.
> 
> Feel free to leave a kudos/comment, it will be much appreciated :)


	5. January

_Hamid to Bertie_

Dear Bertie, 

How was France? And how were the Alps? I’m sure your ski prowesses have improved tenfold. You’ll have to tell me all about next time we’re in each other’s company.

On a different subject, do you happen to have Oscar Wilde’s address? I know you used to move in the same circles at one point and I’d like to commission a poem from him. 

Yours,

Hamid

_Bertie to Hamid_

Dear Hamid,

You cheeky little minx! Who’s the lucky lad or lady? 

Now, if you ask me, Byron will write you better love letters but here’s Wilde’s address since you asked: 16 Tite Street, Chelsea, London. 

Yours,

Bertie

_Hamid’s notes_

Day 1- Wilde went for breakfast at 10:15 am at the _Hôtel de la Chance,_ alone _._ Returned home around noon. Stayed inside for the rest of the day. 

Day 2 - Wilde only emerged from his house at 3:00 pm. Visited a stationery shop down the street and then headed back home. (I thought this would be more exciting...)

Day 3- There is someone else staying with Wilde! A tall half-elf who’s clearly never met a hairbrush in their life. They left the house early afternoon, without Wilde, and walked to London Bridge, where they admired the view for a while. Then returned back to Wilde’s. (One of Wilde’s conquests? Although them staying at Wilde’s suggests a more serious relationship.)

Day 4- Wilde had lunch in the Bulgarian restaurant _Starry Sofia._ Couldn’t confirm with who since I had to observe from the outside. But I saw Dr. Marie Curie from the University of Prague, accompanied by an elegant elf, walk into the restaurant! Wilde, Curie and the elf woman left the place separately, but within minutes of each other. (Why would Prague University’s Head of Transmutation be in London meeting with Wilde??)

_Zolf to Hamid_

Dear Hamid,

I opened your letter after Christmas and New Year’s, but your well wishes are still appreciated. Hope you made it back safely to London.

I guess it’s always strange to revisit places you used to know. It feels like they’ve moved on without you, without asking if you were okay with it first. Not that I would really know, I haven’t been back home since the day I left. You left home three years ago, right? I’d be more worried if you hadn’t changed. 

‘Hamid: Grandmaster of Diversion’ is a pretty good title. Maybe it’s time to start on your book _How to masterfully avoid difficult topics of conversation_. Then you can tell your parents you’ve finally found your path and soothe their worries (the same path as Cambell, in a way). Sounds like a solid plan to me, no? 

You were right about the North Greenland Sea not being toasty. It’s pretty much the opposite, then subtract a hundred degrees from it. My fingers and nose had a few close calls; frostbite’s a nasty thing. I have the next few days free, which I’m going to use to find the sturdiest and most padded cold gear I can afford. I’ll be dragging Sasha along, so she can find something to keep warm that twig body of hers. Wish us luck. 

Tonight, it’s drinks with Sasha and Barnes at the local tavern. These two have taken quite the liking to each other. I reckon both of them growing up in Other London has something to do with it; their favourite saying is “I just don’t get rich people.”

You should know your book kept me good company out in the cold.

Yours always,

Zolf

_Hamid’s notes (continued)_

Day 5- Wilde and the half-elf exited the house at the same time today. Decided to follow the half-elf. Probably a mistake on my part, they just went to the National Maritime Museum and wandered inside for a few hours. 

Day 6- N/A (Plans with Azu)

Day 7- Followed Wilde to the ruins of the Lyceum Theatre. Watched him stand there for a minute, then pick up a piece of the rubble before letting it drop again. I wish I knew what he was thinking in that moment. Afterwards, he made his way down and across the street and headed inside the police station, where he remained for less than an hour before walking back home.

_Hamid to Azu_

Dear Azu,

So much has happened in the last 24 hours, I don’t know where to begin.

I suppose that first, you should know that I’ve been following Oscar Wilde for the past week or so. I know- why didn’t I tell you? You would have thought I was overthinking everything, and to be honest, before yesterday, even I wasn’t sure that my sneaking would prove fruitful. Nonetheless, I had a distinct suspicion that Wilde was up to something. 

Last night, I was wandering around the Globe, waiting for Wilde to finish attending a late performance of _Hamlet_. At almost 11 on the dot, I spotted him among the flow of people being ushered out of the theatre. I trailed behind him as discreetly as I could as he walked down the mostly empty street, before he made a left turn into what I presumed was a narrow alleyway. Quietly, I sped up, reluctant to let him out of sight.

As I entered the alleyway, I saw Wilde in the middle of it, standing with one hand on his hip, clearly waiting for me. Before I could utter some excuse about my presence, he backed me up against the wall and motioned for me to be silent. “I’m being followed,” he said, as he cast a look towards the backstreet’s entrance. “I know! By me!” I whispered back furiously. At that point, he let me know with that typical smirk of his that he’d known since the very first day.

My embarrassment barely had time to set in before I witnessed someone drop down behind Wilde and shove a dark bag over his head. Whatever it was must have been incredibly potent, as Wilde fell limp to the ground within seconds. I was suddenly left alone facing Wilde’s attacker. They promptly took a swing at me with some kind of dagger. I shifted just in time for it to tear open my shoulder instead of my neck. Trying to put some distance between the blade and me, I pushed myself off the wall and staggered a few steps backwards.

The attacker must have assumed that I was making an attempt to run away, because they simply turned back towards Wilde and started to inspect him. I still don’t understand it, but at the sight of that stranger leaning over Wilde’s unconscious form, I thrust my hands forwards and two flaming missiles sprung from them! In an instant, they crashed into the attacker, who stumbled at the force of them. As they regained their balance, I watched them glance down at Wilde once more, before running back out the alleyway. 

Once more, it was just me and Wilde: him, still unconscious; and me, dazed and panting. I staggered to Wilde’s side and removed the cover still on his head. To my dismay, he remained unconscious. Out of my limited options, I decided to bring him over to my place; it seemed like the safest choice. I was lucky to spot a cab that agreed to take us back to my flat, despite how suspicious I must have looked dragging an unconscious man around. Back at the apartment, it took Wilde two hours to regain consciousness. The entire time, I was debating whether to call you, but I was scared to drag you into a situation without fully knowing its risks yet. 

When Wilde finally woke up, he told me the truth. A lot of it I can’t reveal here, in case this letter were to fall into the wrong hands. But Azu- Wilde, Grizzop, Zolf, and now even Sasha, they’re all working together for the sake of protecting the current state of our world. The weather in Cairo, the explosion in London, the drought in Damascus, they’re more than just random occurrences, or so the others have discovered. Wilde described himself as their “organiser” or “the one in charge of providing the right conditions for their success.” Apparently, his trip to Japan last December had to do with finding someone who can increase their odds. I haven’t met this new person properly yet, and neither have you, but Wilde is relying on their expertise to get them to Svalbard, where the next piece of the puzzle appears to lie. 

This will undoubtedly sound sudden to you, but I’ve decided to go with them. I can’t stand by and do nothing if the world is at risk. I know it’s bound to be dangerous, but I’m okay with that. If I’ve learned anything recently, it’s that I won’t evolve or grow stronger if I remain put in this city. For the past year, I’ve felt like a kid, aimlessly wandering the streets of London, hoping for some purpose to fall into my lap. Now is my chance to finally help make the world better, and in the process, better myself as well. 

Now that his cover has clearly been blown, Wilde is insistent on leaving London as soon as possible. I think we’ll have packed our bags and left by tomorrow night at the latest.

I’m so sorry I had to announce all of this in a letter and so completely out of the blue. I hope you know that no matter how far I go, you will always remain my closest and truest friend. 

With all my love, 

Hamid 

_Azu to Hamid_

Hamid, 

I’m coming with you. 

I’ll be at yours first thing tomorrow morning.

Love, 

Azu

_Azu to Grizzop_

Dear Grizzop, 

We are all impatiently waiting for your arrival in Dover! During one of his rare spare moments, Wilde has informed us that all things faring well, you should get to us within the next week, by which time our preparations should hopefully be ready. 

Cel has been working incredibly hard to fix up a ship that will withstand our perilous journey to Svalbard. In all my life, I’ve never met a person more dedicated to their craft and so willing to share and explain their work to others. It is also quite lucky that their star student is Sasha, who in a flash, is capable of grasping the inner workings of complex machinery. You haven’t had a chance to meet her yet, but I think you will quite like her. She’s as kind and quick-witted as you are. 

All of this is good and well, apart from the fact that it leaves me no one to talk to about the recent development in Hamid and Zolf’s relationship! Well, that is, no one except you! Even more convenient, I do not have to fill you in on the beginning of the story, as you are the reason they were able to find each other in the first place. 

As you know, back in October, they started regularly sending each other letters. From what Hamid told and showed me, they talked about everything, from their likes and dislikes, to literature, as well as their daily lives. Early on, I suspected that something more might develop between the two of them, but I thought it wiser to stay quiet and observe how things went. My suspicions were fully confirmed when Zolf and Sasha came up to London in December to spend the week-end at Hamid’s. You should have seen the way they acted around each other, it was just adorable. Sadly, they were only together for barely two days before they had to go their separate ways again and return to communicating through letters. 

This was how things stood until as recently as last week, when Hamid, Wilde, Cel and I arrived in Dover. We hadn’t told Zolf and Sasha of our coming, so the four of us went to surprise them at the inn where they had rented rooms. By pure chance, we bumped into Zolf and Sasha right in front of the inn, as the two had just been out for dinner in town. I hugged everyone hello while out of the corner of my eye, I watched Zolf and Hamid embrace each other tenderly. And then the arguing began. 

As soon as they parted, Zolf asked Hamid what he was doing here. Hamid tried his best to summarise the rush of the past 48 hours to Zolf and Sasha, while Cel and Wilde headed inside the inn to handle our accommodations. I remained outside; I was only too happy to finally be reunited with everyone. But the bubble broke when Zolf told Hamid he shouldn’t have come. For a beat, no one spoke. Sasha and I exchanged confused looks. Hamid decided to break the silence and asked Zolf, “Why not? I came because I want to be here, Zolf. I want to help too.”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous- are you even fully aware of how much danger we’re going to be in? We’re not in an adventure novel, Hamid. If we get killed, that’s it, end of story. There’s not gonna be any deus ex machina or impossible resuscitations! ” Zolf replied. 

Hamid got pretty agitated at that last comment and took a step forward to get even closer to Zolf. “You think I don’t know that? I almost died in January when a roof came down! On. My. Head! And I was one of the lucky ones. Then someone almost slit my throat because I was trying to protect Wilde! We’re not in one of your romance novels, Zolf. I’m not some helpless heroine that can’t look after herself!”

Another tense silence ensued. I desperately tried to come up with an excuse for Sasha and I to delicately extricate ourselves from this situation. Then, my jaw dropped as Zolf closed the distance between himself and Hamid with a sudden kiss. Although I could tell Hamid was in shock, I saw his shoulders relax and his body press itself closer to Zolf’s. 

Thankfully, it was at that point that Sasha grabbed my hand and led me towards the inn’s front door. I’m not sure I could have restrained myself from cheering or clapping had I stayed any longer. Just as Sasha pushed open the door, I heard Zolf whisper a quiet “I’m sorry” and Hamid echo his words. 

And that’s it. I’ve more or less told you everything you needed to know (and everything I needed to let out!). Since then, they’ve been spending most of their time together, shoulder to shoulder at the dinner table and holding hands when leaving for their daily evening walks. I still hear them bicker from time to time over the best route to take and other small things, but it seems more for the pleasure of hearing each other’s voices than to prove the other wrong. 

Well, I suppose you will see the rest for yourself when you get here. And then, we’ll be off to save the world.

Love, 

Azu 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading until the end!!! 
> 
> I'd love to hear your feedback, so feel free to leave kudos/comments :)


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